Unexpected Visitors
by Always A Dragon
Summary: It's not the pleasantest of experiences when your best friend unexpectedly turns up in your living room fireplace. In fact, it's kind of annoying. Especially when they're drunk.


School and Theme: Hogwarts and Department of Magical Transportation

Main Prompt: [Object] Floo Powder

Additional Prompts: [Emotion] Excitement

Year: 6

Wordcount: 1969

**A/N: I'm 14, therefore have never been drunk. I've got no idea what being drunk feels like, and since I've never seen anyone really drunk before, I am just going to go by what those American Movies have taught me.**

**Also, there is some mild swearing.**

**Just for clarification, this is set in Remus's POV.**

* * *

I jerk awake, the half-drunken cup of tea sliding out of my grasp. It falls onto the rug, but at that moment I don't care. The night is warm, and the glow of the yellow candles casts a peaceful aura around me. The air is still. For once I can't hear the sound of ferocious rain as it hammers down on my roof. What I _can_ hear is the murmur of voices in the room next door. Anything peaceful is nullified. It takes me a few seconds before I register what's happening.

There are people... in my house.

If I was a social kind of person, who is known for throwing wild parties, this would not be a great shock.

But I'm not. I live alone.

There are not supposed to be people in _my_ house.

I rise silently from my armchair and reach for my wand. It's lying on the floor in a pool of cold tea. I must have been asleep for some time.

The voices in the room next door quieten, though I can hear footsteps; several of them. My own feet brush noiselessly across the soft rug and then onto cold wooden floors. I'm fully awake now, my mind ticking over the possible scenarios.

I do this a lot, in case you can't tell. I'm no stranger to perilous circumstances.

They could be Muggle thieves, come to rob my house. If so, they won't find much. I'm poor. My parents were poor. I've little inheritance. Anything of value has been sold long ago. Still, my stomach roils at the thought of facing dangerous—and possibly armed—thieves.

Perhaps the voices belong to ministry officials. Poking their nose into my business, yet again. I can imagine them with their wands out, asking me if I'm indeed Remus Lupin, the _werewolf._ If so, I'll have to seriously resist the urge to hex them.

I start sweating. There's a soft thud as someone knocks something over in the next room. I wish I'd put candles on the table—now word and faded—near the door. The light still reaches across the small room, but I notice more than ever the way darkness seems to slide up the walls and through the cracks in the floor.

Or—my hand grips my wand tighter at the thought—the footsteps I can hear belong to Death Eaters. Merlin knows they'd like to eliminate me. Not only am I a werewolf, but I'm a member of the Order of the Phoenix to boot. My breath falters. They wouldn't kill me outright, of course. I'd be tortured first. They would ask me about the Order. How long would I be able to resist?

I shake my head, trying to clear myself of such thoughts. I'm almost at the door that marks the boundary between my bedroom and the hallway beyond. The house I currently reside in is small, run-down and was incredibly cheap. It's also old, and thus still capable of exuding the feeling of living in a rabbit warren. It's better than a tin shed, though; that was the other option.

I rest my hand on the doorknob, slowly opening it. I'd put a charm on it a while back so it wouldn't creak. I meant to refresh the charm on the living room door as well, but I hadn't had the time. This door, at least, slides silently open.

There are no candles lit in the hallway. It's pure blackness. Even when your eyes adjust, it's hard to see more than the thin outlines of the doors.

"Lumos," I whisper.

A dim white light shines from my wand. My heart is in my throat. Is that death I can smell, or just the mustiness that accompanies this old decrepit house? Is that the sound of Ministry wizards murmuring about how dangerous I am, or just the wind whispering quietly at the window?

I don't like not knowing.

"Nox," I say, deciding a lit wand might make me an easier target, and my light goes out.

Finally, I reach for the wooden door that enters into the living room. It's not quite shut, and a small sliver of light—like greenish-silver water—leaks out from underneath the door.

It's the 'not knowing' that's terrifying, I suppose.

Instantly, as my hand brushes against tiny splinters, a peal of raucous laughter bursts through the air like some maniacal dying crow. What? What kind of Death-Eater laughs? I jump back in shock, nearly tripping over my robes in my haste and accidentally kicking open the door.

My charm had worn off. The door creaks, groans, and I feel like I'm about to have a heart attack.

For a few seconds, I just stare. Then I regain my senses and send a bright red stunning spell through the void and into the living room beyond.

There's a tinkle as I hear it break the window. Crap.

"Incendio," someone mutters happily, and flames consume my fireplace.

Consequently, the living room (broken window and all) is bathed in flickering firelight. My mouth falls open.

There are three reasons for this. Firstly, James Potter is in my living room, grinning and evidently quite drunk. Secondly, Lily Potter is in my living room, grinning and drinking my only bottle of firewhiskey, also quite drunk, and finally, they're both dressed in garishly colourful robes. So much so, that my eyes actually start to water.

It's rather a shock, if I'm honest, and I steady myself against the door-frame.

"Remus!" Lily jumps up, clearly thrilled about something, the now-empty Firewhiskey bottle cast against the armchair she'd been sitting on. She staggers over to me, her eyes slightly unfocused. "You won't believe what's been happening!"

I blink, my brain still struggling to work out whether I'm dreaming or not. James suddenly appears, his grin reminding me vividly of a shark.

No, I don't think I am dreaming.

James and Lily Potter are in my living room, drunk and quite uninvited.

"What, exactly, do you think you are doing?" Now the anxiety from five minutes ago has left, I'm feeling a familiar surge of anger start to boil within me.

"You know how much I hate unexpected visitors!" My voice starts to get louder. "Why do you think I'm in some tiny corner of Wales and not London? I mean—"

"Calm down!" James laughs, his speech slightly slurred.

I don't take his advice. I never really have, actually. "—Now you just enter my house and scare the hell out of me!"

"You won't believe it, Remus, but—" Lily twirls excitedly, almost losing her footing.

"Merlin, I can't even comprehend how annoying you two can be—"

"We travelled by Floo Powder—"

"—do you even realise that I thought you two were Death Eaters or Ministry Officials?" My face is red by now, but Lily and James aren't paying attention to me, anyway.

"—and we went to all these houses—"

"Heck, I even thought you might be Muggle thieves—"

"—and we stole some jewellery from Sirius's parents' manor—"

"Do you even care that you just drank my only bottle of Firewhiskey?"

"—and we found some Butterbeer in the kitchen of the Weasley's—"

"YOU CAN'T JUST STEAL ALCOHOL FROM OTHER PEOPLE'S HOUSES!"

Finally, the pair stop and look at me oddly.

"Sure we can," James says, finally.

I groan, resting my head in my hands. I wish I'd thought to set up extra wards on my Floo system. It would've cost more money though, and at the time I'd not been in the best of circumstances.

I still wasn't, really.

To think they had just burst through my fireplace in the dead of night…

I glare at James and Lily. Here they are, acting like stupid teenagers. Like we're not all in danger of losing our lives, and that there's a war going on outside our doors.

I grumble something incoherent at them, moving to the centre of the living room. There are remnants of the tell-tale glittering green powder on my floor-boards. Wonderful. Bloody wonderful. My anger has abated by now—it always does, after an initial outburst—and has instead been replaced with annoyance. Severe annoyance.

As they both start to spin each other around in circles, however, my frown starts to slip off my face. Idiots.

"Do you have any Floo powder to get back home? What are you going to do?" I ask begrudgingly.

"We'll stay here, at your place, of course!"

"It's a one-bedroom house. You're not kipping out in the living room, either."

"Then we can apparate." James twirls Lily around, their faces lit up with drunken happiness.

Fools.

James' black hair is a stark contrast to Lily's red hair. My best friend's glasses glint in the firelight. I start to become aware of how tired I am. My eyelids start to droop.

"How much Firewhiskey have you had, anyway?" I ask, even though I already know they've had too much. They don't answer, resorting to giggles. I sigh. "You can't apparate. Not when you're drunk, you'll likely just splinch yourselves."

I wonder if this is what looking after annoying children is like. If so, perhaps I won't get that job as a relief-teacher in the Muggle school after all.

Neither of them answers, and since my tiredness is rapidly returning (it's a full moon in less than a week), I slump down into an armchair. Thankfully not the one with the empty firewhiskey bottle in it. My annoyance is dissipating faster than you can say floo-powder, and I start to feel a bit guilty at James and Lily.

"What are you celebrating, anyway?" The firelight and warm air are lulling me to sleep. It's a reasonable question; there's a war on, and unless we've won it we don't really get to celebrate.

James laughs, his face lighting up.

"Haven't you heard? Frank and Alice are getting married!"

I blink in surprise, feeling happiness suddenly swell up inside me.

"Really?"

"Yeah! They told us today. They're going to announce it at the next Order meeting."

A grin stretches across my face. Frank and Alice, both two of the most hard-working people in the entire Order, have been going out since they were both seventeen. They're perfect for each other. In the midst of war, however, marriage is so… _surreal_. Planning a wedding during a time when your life can end with one spell, well, it seems impossible. James and Lily had married, of course, but they were both straight out of school and therefore not as involved with the Order as they are now. Alice and Frank are both Aurors. They're different.

Sometimes I think I worry too much. Care too much. That I should harden up because this is a war we're dealing with and people are going to get hurt.

Then something like Alice and Frank's marriage comes along, and I forget about being tough. As I watch James and Lily attempt to waltz around my tiny, dilapidated living room in their horribly coloured robes, I smile and laugh.

Sure, my drunk best friends have just turned up in my living room and stolen my precious bottle of Firewhiskey, but the night is warm, and I can't hear the sound of rain on my roof. The air is still, and the room glows with orange fire-light.

For once, it's peaceful.

I can almost imagine there's no war going on, no deaths reported daily in the newspaper. For a few moments, everything seems perfect.

I laugh as James stumbles over his far-too-big feet, and Lily almost goes flying.

With a quick summoning charm, I grab three glasses and a bottle of water from the kitchen and pour us all a drink.

We sure as hell need it.

* * *

**A/N: Explanation of prompt:**

**My prompt was the Department of Magical Transportation and thus looked at the various ways wizards travel. Obviously, there's the importance of Floo Powder, and James and Lily's unexpected arrival in Wales. I looked at the impact that had on Remus, focusing on his "emotional journey" in those few minutes. At first, he's scared and anxious, every nerve on edge. When he realizes the intruders are only his best friends, however, he quickly becomes angry. His outburst turns to guilt soon after, which softens his anger. When he hears the news of Frank and Alice's upcoming marriage, Remus instantly lightens up. **

**I thought it would be fun to really delve into Remus's emotions in a particularly tense situation, while improving my skills in not turning this fic into another "everything is dark and grim and horrible". So this fic isn't just about Floo Powder and why you shouldn't steal Firewhiskey, but also a portrayal of how tiny, miniscule events can affect someone.**

**On that note, you also really shouldn't steal Firewhiskey. It's very rude.**

**-Always A Dragon**


End file.
